


The Bad Ending

by boticelli



Category: Inkheart (2008), Tintenwelt-Trilogie | Inkheart Trilogy - Cornelia Funke
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arson, Canon Divergence, Cold OC, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Gen, Hello Inkheart Fandom, I’ll be the one who writes that, Jesus Christ we’re really doing this aren’t we, Mainly it’s for me, Phaedra makes bad decisions, Purely Self-Serving, So I just said hey, Someone needed to Fuck Capricorn, mentions of non con, stubborn oc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boticelli/pseuds/boticelli
Summary: Phaedra nearly cringed at the sound of Capricorn’s name. She tried hard to not even think about the man or even speak his name, as if it would summon him as if he were Bloody fucking Mary. Fear wasn’t the proper term for it. She wasn’tafraidof the man himself, just the power he held over her.In which a third party messes things up real bad.
Relationships: Capricorn/Female OC, Phaedra/her sanity
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	1. I tried to come up with a serious title and I couldn’t. It’s not like you read these anyway.

The floodlights glared in Phaedra's eyes as she peered out at the compound from the hiding spot she had so carefully picked. Everyone was awake now, stumbling around sleepily in an attempt to find her. It’s something they should’ve been expecting, hell, she tried to escape just about every three months. Her captors first had made the mistake of allowing her to roam around freely, but after her first few escapes, they’d posted a guard at her door. After the sixth time, their boss had tried to woo her into staying, kept her locked away in his room whenever he was in. No problem, really. She was a charming enough woman and the boss was gone often. She was far too old to be playing these sort of games, in her opinion: bat your lashes, purse your lips, look vulnerable for just a moment too long, put your hand on their waist and quietly take the set of keys that these fools all wore on their hips. 

This time, she was determined to get further than the next town. This time, she wouldn’t stop until she was confident that the men in black coats wouldn’t come and take her away again. 

When she was younger, she thought girls who were kidnapped were always children or older teens, never twenty-six year-old adjunct professors who’d just broken up with their partner of three years. Then, she’d been kidnapped herself and her thoughts changed. 

Phaedra was first taken by these men four years ago when she’d been fresh out of her master’s program and working at a small university. She’d run into someone she’d seen around campus and wound up sharing a few drinks with them. Next thing she knew, she was in the back of a van, hungover with a half-dozen men dressed like crows surrounding her. Lucky for Phaedra, they’d been following her around for weeks, said that their ‘boss’ had use for talents like hers: the ability to bring books to life, to bring living, breathing creatures out from the pages. 

A pretty useless talent, really, but not in the hands of these folk. 

Judging by the panic she heard back in the buildings, they’d finally caught on that she’d run off and had sent out a search party. Dogs, flashlights, guns, the whole shebang. She could hear them checking out her usual hiding spots, the places where she’d waited for herself to muster up the courage to run. Today, she’d finally run. She had a set of car keys, and as soon as she figured out which car they belonged to, Phaedra was out of here. 

Carefully, her eyes watched the lights in the distance and listened for footsteps in the brush, waiting for the perfect moment. 

And when she was convinced she was in the clear, Phaedra ran like a madwoman towards where the cars were parked, thumb rapidly pressing on the ‘unlock’ button until she saw lights flash a few feet away from her. This was her chance. 

Just as she unlocked the car and pulled the door open, a man jumped in front of her, slamming the door shut.

“Goddammit," Phaedra hissed, her eyes glaring daggers at the man in front of her, "I need to get out of here, what do you want from me, Dustfinger?" If there was someone she didn’t trust more than she trusted her captors, this man would be him. He was never really friend or foe. In fact, they hardly ever spoke with each other, at times, when he was feeling particularly pitiful, he’d flash a sorrowful look her way or a sad smile. Phaedra supposed that neither of them really trusted the other. How could they? She was his enemy’s favorite and he was allowed to come and go as he pleased. 

"Take me with you!" Dustfinger exclaimed, grabbing her shoulders. "I can't stand to be here any longer. Capricorn isn't doing what he promised and I need to find another way home." 

Phaedra nearly cringed at the sound of Capricorn’s name. She tried hard to not even think about the man or even speak his name, as if it would summon him as if he were Bloody fucking Mary. Fear wasn’t the proper term for it. She wasn’t _afraid_ of the man himself, just the power he held over her. If she allowed Dustfinger to come with her, she felt as if he would still have some sort of control, even from afar. 

But if she didn’t allow him to come with her… this small part of her would feel incredibly guilty. 

"Alright! Fine! You can come with me, just let me go." She broke free of his grasp and opened the car door, sitting in the driver's seat. With the lights off, she backed up and quietly made her way to the rusty gate just outside of the compound.

Fifteen minutes passed when Phaedra finally turned on her headlights and pushed the gas pedal as hard as she could. The road twisted and turned, and she often found herself looking through the trees to see if she could see the small farm where Capricorn had built his little base. Even when she knew it was long gone, she still found herself looking, afraid of the faces that could be waiting in the trees. 

Only when she was certain that she’d placed enough distance between her and the compound did she switch the radio on to try to calm her nerves. Hell, she may have to take up smoking again just to keep her hands from shaking.

* * *

Phaedra was twenty-six again, shaking, hungover, and tied up in the back of a van. She'd just spent the last three hours lecturing and all she'd wanted to do was grab a drink and go home. Her clothes were soaked wet with rain, making the zip ties dig into her skin even harder, making the whole moment rather uncomfortable. 

Men clad in black surrounded her, including the gentleman who she'd been foolish enough to grab a drink with. What else she'd done with him, she didn't want to know. All she knew was that their eyes were glued to the way the fabric clinged to her curves, how the water dripped from her Sandy hair to her nose to her collarbone. 

She sat up on the metal floor, eyes wide and full of fear; anticipating what their motives were. Phaedra imagined that she looked like a young child, defenseless, nearly innocent. There was not a single ounce of bravery in her soul at this moment; fear had devoured everything. At the moment, she hadn't noticed, but her face was wet with tears, stinging a cut on her lip. 

The one who'd bought drinks with her wiped a year from her face and contemplated it with a sly grin on his face. "Flatnose, I think your ugly mug has frightened the poor lady!"

"How 'bout we get you out of those wet rags?" Another asked, his eyes eating her up. Phaedra jerked away from them, spitting in the eye of whoever was closest, but she just found herself in the arms of another man who chuckled in response.

"Looks like she's trying to fight back, Basta." The one who she bumped into chimed as he petted her head, thumb grazing over the curve of her neck. Phaedra shivered under his touch, trying to get away from his calloused hands, but they just gripped even tighter. "Hey," he said over his shoulder, "come help me with her. Little thing is wriggling around like mad." 

Her eyes followed the man with olive skin, Basta, she presumed. He stalked closer to her like a cat did his prey before shrugging his coat off, revealing the shining handle of a knife. A laugh escaped his lips as she paused, focused solely on the knife at his belt before she spat in his face and kicked out towards him, her foot connecting with his stomach. Basta let out a grunt and chuckled, pulling his knife out and pressing it underneath her chin, “what’s wrong pretty bird? We’re just having some fun, nothing bad’s gonna happen to you.” Phaedra could smell mint spilling off his breath, but when she tried to turn away, he pressed the tip of the knife harder into her skin, forcing a yelp out of her. “Besides, you and I already had our fun. The boss doesn’t want anything too bad to happen to you.”

Hot tears fell down her face as he withdrew his knife, placing a kiss on her cheek. 

“Don’t cry, love.” The one holding her whispered as he pet her head. 

Phaedra shivered as she felt the zipper of her dress slide down her back. This was it. They'd violate her in this disgusting van. To her surprise, one of them tossed a set of dry clothes her way. So, they just wanted to torment her and scare her by forcing her to change in front of them. 

"Look at this, Basta," one of them noted as she sheepishly dressed herself. His fingers traced over a trio of red roses and a multitude of other meaningful and not so meaningful tattoos that decorated her body, forcing another shiver out of Phaedra. 

“Maybe you’re not so prim and proper as you let on?”

“A wild child.” 

“Capricorn will have fun with her.”

* * *

The sound of Dustfinger snoring in the seat next to her jolted her from her daydream. A cold bead of sweat trailed down her forehead. It’d been the first time in a long time that she’d thought of that day; having been unable to wipe it completely from her memory since she’d lived that nightmare every day since then, Phaedra had just forced herself to _not_ think about it. 

Phaedra and Dustfinger had settled on heading south, since it was in the opposite of Capricorn’s northern base of operations. It was still early in the year and it’d be months before he even bothered to think about south, and the fire eater allegedly had a friend south, though she doubted that he had many friends to begin with. 

Who knew, though? 

Even she didn’t have a lot of friends back when she was living in the “real” world, and it still didn’t quite hit her yet that she was finally returning to that world after four years. 

Four long years and those years were finally, _finally_ over.


	2. I'm really obsessed with wrestling lately. Colt Cabana is a fave of mine.

Phaedra had been skeptical when Dustfinger said he had friends, but it was a pleasant surprise to discover that he did indeed, have at least _one_ friend: a bookbinder by the name of Mortimer whom he called ‘Silvertongue’. Of course, she had heard of this man herself, Capricorn was obsessed with the idea of the man and oddly enough, she was jealous of him. The part of her that had grown close to Capricorn, who wanted to be cared for and in a way, loved by him didn't want this bookbinder to return. It was a feeling she couldn't quite describe. 

A feeling she couldn't quite hide as she sipped on tea while drying off in the bookbinder's workshop. 

"Are you alright, miss?" He asked as he put down his own mug, staring quizzically at her.

"I'm fine. It's just… hard to wrap my head around normal." Phaedra glanced around her nervously, even though she was in a closed room, "and please, call me Phaedra." She still felt their eyes on her, watching from cracks in the doors, from behind as she went down the hall to the toilet. It was hard to shake the feeling of being watched after you'd been followed around like a misbehaving child for so long. 

Phaedra remembered when they finally had someone tail her any time she was out of her room. They thought she'd eventually come to terms that she was forever stuck with Capricorn, but she'd run off, jumped into a river and had to be pulled out by the skin of her neck five miles down, kicking and screaming like a banshee. 

This bookbinder never had to experience that. He was afraid of an old memory of Capricorn when the reality was that the man was now even more terrifying than what'd been written about him. He had adjusted to their world well, he knew how everything worked and he knew how to circumvent the law. This man, this Silvertongue, only knew a small portion of the story. 

She listened quietly as the two men chatted, idly picking up his tools that'd been left on the workbench until she dropped a set of tweezers when Mortimer addressed her: 

"So, Phaedra, what will you do now? Go home to your family?" 

A ill-timed chuckle escaped her lips, "no family. My grandparents in America raised me. I came here to teach. I'm pretty sure everyone thinks I'm dead." Phaedra had no idea what she'd do now. To the rest of the world, she didn't exist. For the first time in four years, she thought: _maybe I should've stayed, there was a place for me there_. She had purpose there, she knew who everybody was. That terrible, terrible place was oddly enough, Phaedra’s family. 

"Well, you're more than welcome to stay for a few days to get your affairs in order," he offered. 

It was the kindest thing any person had offered her in a long time. “I don’t want to endanger you or your daughter, but I appreciate it. Maybe I’ll go move to Croatia or something. Someplace where Capricorn can’t find me.” 

“At least stay the night.” 

She could agree to that much. 

Phaedra made herself as comfortable as she could be on a couch, head propped up against the arm and feet tucked under a heavy quilt. She'd spent years dreaming of her first night away, but she never expected it to be like this. 

Upstairs, she could hear Mortimer scolding his younger daughter and for a second, she could imagine that she was home. She heard the girl ask hundreds of questions regarding her and Dustfinger, who'd left some time ago. Phaedra wished she could be half as innocent as that girl was, shielded from all the evil in the world. 

Soon enough, all was still in the old house, the sound of the rain on the windows all she could hear. Though she tried and tried again, sleep would not come to Phaedra, so she was left with her thoughts, her plans for her future. 

Even when she eventually fell into a restless sleep, her dreams were filled with the face of Capricorn, of the feeling of flames burning her flesh and the smell of soot that clung to the clothing of his men. She never thought that scent would ever go away.

The sun hadn't even begun to warm Phaedra's face before she was woken up by Mortimer clamoring about the house, almost in a panic but he didn't make it obvious. For a moment, she had forgotten that she was free and looked around the room, expecting Capricorn's maids drawing back the curtains and the man himself, inspecting himself meticulously in the mirror.

"Good morning," Mortimer chimed as he was packing food into containers, "sorry to wake you." He poured hot coffee into a thermos, screwing the lid on tightly and placing it carefully into a bag. Phaedra swung her legs over the edge of the couch and stood up, a chill coursing through her body as her feet touched the cold floor. She wrapped her arms around her waist and sleepily walked towards the small kitchen. Mortimer looked up as she glanced awkwardly about the room, "there's cocoa if you'd like some." He paused, "I can't imagine how strange this must be, waking up to a normal morning after so long."

Phaedra looked at the ground, a somber way of agreeing with his statement. She tentatively reached for a mug filled with warm cocoa, resisting the urge to drink it all at once. "Are you packing up because of Capricorn?" She asked, glancing up. Mortimer looked at her with a grave expression, not wanting to admit out loud that he feared the man. She didn't blame him. "I remember there was this one girl he really wanted as a maid... he had his men track her down for weeks; he was relentless." Phaedra paused, taking a sip of her cocoa, "he doesn't give up easily, but I don't think he's ever actually tried hunting you. He spoke of you frequently, but I think he always hoped you'd find him on your own."

"I don't plan on letting Capricorn get a hold of us and I have no intention of finding him," Mortimer smiled as he carried the bags to the door. "If you don't mind, I'm going to wake up my daughter." He started out of the kitchen, but suddenly stopped, mouth open as if he had some sort of clever idea. "You know, it may be a good idea to come along with us. You said he's in the north, right? We're going to be staying with one of my wife's aunts, I'm sure there'd be a room for you to stay in." Mortimer turned and headed towards the stairs, giving her space to consider his offer. 

"Your wife? Would she not be concerned about you traveling with another woman?" 

"No, she's not the kind of woman to have any suspicions," he called back down the stairs. 

Phaedra was honestly surprised that this man was offering to take her along on this trip. She wandered back over to the couch, seriously considering this man's offer. There wasn't much else for her in the world, now. With no family to return home to and no identity, what else could she do but accept? 

Mortimer's daughter, Meggie, had every right to be glaring daggers at Phaedra settled in on the bench seat in the back of the van. If she were in the child's position, she'd be wary of a strange woman who'd come from an evil villain's lair with a strange man. She was a cheeky girl, too! The first half-hour she'd spent her time answering question after question: 

"How old are you anyway?"

Thirty, she would respond. Old. Her twenties spent wasting away in a madman's clutches. 

"Are you Dustfinger's wife?"

I barely know the man, no. 

"Where are you even from? Your accent is odd." 

Ohio in the United States. I moved to Germany at seventeen and then England at twenty-three. It was also at this time when she reassured Mortimer that the girl's questions weren't bothering her. 

"What did you do?" 

I taught history in Leeds. 

Then, the final question:

"Is what Dustfinger said about Capricorn true?" 

Yes. 

Mortimer stopped her after that and crossing her arms, Meggie turned to face the front, staring out the window. Before long, the girl was nodding off, lulled to sleep by the sound of the road. 

Once he was certain his daughter was asleep, the bookbinder looked back at Phaedra, "I feel responsible for what's happened to you." 

She pursed her lips, contemplating what she could say to him. There were a lot of days she'd spent blaming everything on this 'Silvertongue', that he was the reason she'd gone through all this pain, but like her, their ability wasn't their fault. 

So, she just shrugged: "it is what it is." 

Phaedra woke with a start, a cold sweat dripping from her forehead. Dustfinger was asleep on the bench next to her, snoring quietly. The only one awake in the van was Mortimer, who was concentrating on the road. Hearing her waking, he glanced in his mirror back at her, a concerned look on his face. "You alright?" He asked, directing his focus back on the road.

"Yeah." Phaedra said sullenly as she wrapped her arms around her, glancing out at the trees passing by. She slid off of the bench and crawled towards the front, resting her back against the driver's seat. "I dreamt about the first time Capricorn made me bring a human being out of a book." She laughed shallowly, glancing down at her hands, "this woman, a maid of his, came out as lovely as ever, but as dead as a doornail. I'd brought all sorts of creatures here before, but never a person. His name is carved into my back because of that day."

Silence filled the van, what else could be said in response to something like that? Instead of pressing on further, the subject was changed. Until the van stopped at a gate covered in vines, Phaedra and Mortimer talked about their childhoods, travel, anything but the subject of Capricorn. 

She wondered if she would ever forget him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have much to say on this one!! I've got one more chapter that's a rewrite and then it's all new content. 
> 
> I rewrote most of this anyway. Not much of the old stayed. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! 
> 
> -wil
> 
> Hey!!! I edited Margaret's name. It wasn't sitting with me and I couldn't picture her well, but I finally found a replacement name!


	3. I listened to a lot of lordi while writing this chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dustfinger:  
> Dustfinger:  
> Phaedra: first of all, how dare you.

Mortimer kept telling her that she was the first stranger this Aunt Elinor had ever taken a liking to. Phaedra and the woman discussed a great number of things after she'd shown them all around the house and her library; they chatted away like old friends as Mortimer and Meggie unpacked. 

"So you're telling me you didn't pack a single thing with you?" She asked as she hovered over the stove, checking her cooking every few minutes. 

Phaedra shrugged, "unfortunately, no. When Mortimer called me to inspect a few of his books, I had just planned on it being a day-trip. I didn't have time to go home and pack when he invited me along. I've heard so much about your library." Elinor seemed to buy the story she and Mortimer had made up. They'd decided that Phaedra was researching bookbinding in an effort to keep the art alive. It was a noble enough cause that the old woman didn't bat an eye. 

"We'll go to town tomorrow and you can pick up some essentials, how does that sound?" 

It sounded nice. A chance to go out and start over? Perhaps she'd even get a haircut, too, though she'd grown accustomed to her long locks. She looked so different now: of course she was older and a distinct line was growing between her brow, but she was thinner, too, and the light in her eyes had dimmed. When she stared into the mirror, glassy, grey eyes stared back, but some things still stayed the same. The scars on her lips from when she fell out of a tree as a child still remained, the runes she had tattooed in white on her fingers on impulse still remained, and all the other flowers and wood block prints she had tattooed on her still remained on her arms, a reminder from every new country she lived in. 

Phaedra didn't enjoy spending too much time in front of the mirror these days; a quick glance at herself to make sure her hair was in place was all she needed. She felt old all of the sudden, even though Elinor kept complimenting her for her youthful appearance at the age of thirty. She didn't feel young anymore even though her bones didn't ache and her eyesight hadn't deteriorated too poorly. That spark had left her the moment she set foot in the bookbinder's house. 

Like a child who'd been spirited away by the fair folk, Phaedra felt as if her age had suddenly rushed up to catch her. 

She excused herself early from dinner, opting to shower off the last of the grime that she'd brought from Capricorn's fortress. Turning the dials as high as they could go, Phaedra let the hot water scald her skin until it touched the burns on her back, forcing a yelp from her as she quickly turned the heat down. 

At least she could still feel pain. 

Once she was toweled off and changed into an old nightshirt Elinor had lended her, Phaedra pried the windows open, swinging her legs out over the edge and seating herself, taking a deep breath of the cool air. As exhausted as she was, she couldn't force herself to crawl into the large bed just yet. 

"Enjoying your freedom?" A hushed voice called from the shadows. 

"Dustfinger, I figured you'd run off already." She replied, turning her head towards the man, before biting her lip, a question resting on the tip of her tongue, "am I crazy for missing him? He did terrible things to me and I still miss him, Dustfinger. He's… oddly the only thing I have left in this world." 

"So it was true. I thought his men were just joking."

"What was true?" 

"You shared a bed with him." He replied gravely, "he's sunk his claws in you so deep that he's the only thing you see. You're out, go back to your life while you can."

She balled her fists up tightly, "what gives you the right? Do you think I had a choice? He took everything from me. To everyone else I'm dead but there, I existed. Your story was cold and bleak and terrible and treated you worse than dirt, but you miss it too. It made sense for you. This world doesn't make sense to me anymore just like it doesn't make sense to you." By no means had Capricorn ever been what she would consider a _lover_ , in fact she still shuddered at the thought, but he had sunk his talons into her, made her feel as if she was an integral part of his life rather than just something warm to hold. 

He sat in silence for a moment, letting her words sink in. Phaedra knew she should do as he said, find her own life, but she was scared, hurt. Damaged goods. Even if she did make a new life for herself, she could never imagine a day where she wasn't afraid of Capricorn or his crows that watched over her. 

The two of them stared off into the night before Phaedra finally pulled herself back inside. "Goodnight, Dustfinger," she muttered before closing the window, turning in for the evening and nestling under the thick blankets in a bed that was bigger than any bed she'd been in. 

She and Elinor returned in the late afternoon the next day, arms weighed down by bags upon bags of clothing and groceries. Most of the day had been spent rebuilding her wardrobe, and she'd come back wearing pants; she'd forgotten all about how good pants felt! 

Phaedra felt like a new woman, a new energy coursed through her as she placed the bags of clothes on the bed, examining every piece she pulled from them as if they were some sort of cherished heirlooms. Quickly, she changed into something new and bounded downstairs to help Elinor with dinner. For the first time, she felt as if she could pull herself out of this. Perhaps Elinor would allow her to stay and organize her shelves outside the library. Perhaps. 

However, she quieted down after seeing Dustfinger at the dinner table, slipping rolls to Gwin in his backpack. His words had stuck with her: Capricorn had indeed sunk his claws into her, still, she dreamt of obtaining his approval, to see that smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. She hated it and loved it at the same time. 

Phaedra wished her mind wasn't so complicated. 

As Meggie was promised a show and they cleaned their plates, Phaedra pulled the bookbinder aside, "Mortimer, do you mind if I watch you work this evening? I have hundreds of questions." 

"Of course."

Two mugs of tea were balancing on her arms as she turned the knob on the door of Elinor's library later that evening. Like he had been for the past day, Mortimer was huddled over the books the old woman had thrust upon him, carefully inspecting their pages and their current state before doctoring them back up. Without looking up from his work, Mortimer thanked her for the tea, taking a sip out of the steaming mug. 

"Did you ever want to meet Capricorn? Even just a small part of you?" She asked after staring at him working for what had to have been an hour. 

"Maybe a small part," he responded as he carefully removed a book from its spine, "my wife would've wanted to. She had a love for villains."

"I did, too. I read the book as a teenager and all I wanted was to meet them and the Motley Folk. I knew what I could do even then, but all that ever came out was a glass man or a fairy." She paused, trying to remember whatever became of those creatures, "your wife, she slipped into the pages, didn't she?" 

"She did." 

"At least you can confidently know that most of the evil has left the book. Cockerell, Basta, Flatnose, all of them are out. I'm sure she's living happily with the fairies and the goblins." 

He smiled, "I suppose you're right about that." 

Moving herself to one of the armchairs in the library, Phaedra and Mortimer exchanged a few words every now and then, but she mostly occupied herself with romance novels she'd picked up earlier that day.

At some point, she must have fallen asleep because she woke in a cold sweat with a knife pressed into her neck. Basta. She didn't even need to ask, she could smell the mint on his breath and the cologne he doused himself in. 

"Oh how I've missed the sight of you," he cooed into her ear, slowly pulling her up by her shoulders. It took all of her strength to not kick him in the shins as his fingers traced the curve of her neck. She was much smaller than the man, but that could be used to her advantage. "Maybe I should take my chance with you before I bring you back to Capricorn."

"You know your knife doesn't scare me," Phaedra stated matter-of-factly, "and Capricorn would have you hanged if you dared to lay a finger on me." 

"Is that so?" He asked, taking in a deep breath of her hair before planting a kiss on her cheek. "He's rather cross with you, maybe he'll let me take you off his hands." 

"Basta, quit your flirting, Capricorn said to find the book and Silvertongue, too!" A voice called from Mortimer's workroom. Phaedra was promptly handed over to Flatnose, who was tossing books aside like garbage. 

"I'm coming back," she told him, trying to get him to loosen his grip on her shoulders, "I'm not gonna run." He looked down at her with a raised brow. As stupid as the man was, he was smart enough to not trust her by now. 

Soon enough, with a book bound in green linen in his hands, Cockerell and the bookbinder behind him, Basta returned to her with a smirk: "I wonder what punishment Capricorn'll give ya this time, little bird." He gripped her chin with his free hand, looking for any sort of fear in her eyes, but when he found none, he resorted to getting a rise out of her. "Maybe he'll strip you down like all those years ago and let us watch him brand you or let us-" 

The sound of her palm against his cheek was nearly deafening, but not as deafening as the sound of the gunshot that followed shortly after that or Phaedra's scream. Crumpling to the floor, her leg screaming in agony from the buckshot against her flesh, she lay there as Basta and the more senior men turned to the young boy who clutched the shotgun in trembling hands, only just now realizing what a grave mistake he'd made. 

Capricorn wouldn't like this at all. 

Phaedra didn't fight as Flatnose scooped her up, cradling her in his arms like a small child as they moved through the halls and to the van parked outside. She gritted her teeth as she was laid on one of the bench seats and a tourniquet was wrapped around her leg to stave any more bleeding. 

Oddly enough, the sound of Basta reprimanding the boy and Cockerell and the rest bickering amongst each other as Mortimer was shoved into the back of the van felt like home, but it was something she dared not to admit. Perhaps returning was the best choice.

Or perhaps not. They'd done terrible things to her and it'd continue for as long as she lived.

But she had no life away from them now.

But then again...

She fell asleep with her head pressing against Cockerell as she argued silently with herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Margaret's name changed to Phaedra. I wanted something that was more literary AND a reference to a Nancy Sinatra song. 
> 
> I hope you're staying healthy! 
> 
> This entire chapter is rewritten, no old words from 2015 remain. On to new writing! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this. I know it's primarily self serving, but it means a lot. There's very few fics out there for Inkheart and I'm just glad you took time to read mine.
> 
> -Wil

**Author's Note:**

> Lord, here we are again. 
> 
> If any of you peruse the Inkheart Fics on fan fiction.net as well, you may recognize this old one of mine from 2015. I’ve rewritten a lot of it since it’s almost 5 years old at this point. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! By some miracle, I still have muse for this fandom. 
> 
> It’s going to be a biiiig AU. Capricorn doesn’t die. 
> 
> I’m going to try to not kill anyone else. I swear. 
> 
> \- Wil


End file.
